The narrator of the film was diagnosed with proprioception disorder by her physiotherapist: She lacks a normal awareness of her body in space and thus a reference to the world around her. Dancing as a therapy might help. Instead, she takes a ghost train into Finland’s television history, to the 1960s, when ordinances forbade spontaneous dancing because of a Medieval decree.

Young people were robbed of their body awareness, Finland, with its peculiar position between the blocks of the Cold War, stood untethered in the political geography of the time. Connections were made through television, Swiss campaigns for the independence of the West African province of Biafra, the weightless moon landing, U.S. American stars from soap operas and TV western shows. Travelling without moving. Do ghosts have proprioception? Wouldn’t they float out of this world otherwise? Or are they kept tethered to the ground by film and television recordings?

A marvellously wild stop motion animadoc trip to unknown worlds, in which 18-year-old astronaut Fatu sets himself a challenge that’s as nerve-racking to him as a lunar expedition. He wants to go shopping at the supermarket – for the first time as he sees himself: in full glam make-up. How will his family with their Kosovar roots react to these new coordinates? Will his self-perception and the others’ perception clash? Set course for star date LGBTQAI+.

Helsinki by night. A car driving through rain-soaked streets, hardly a soul in sight. Jani Peltonen uses an old camera test to repurpose the Kaurismäki-like shots for an apocalyptic scenario: The radius of the drive roughly corresponds to the area that would be affected by the shockwave of a nuclear bomb explosion. In a way, Peltonen, who works with split screens in “Equal Dust”, breaks up and rearranges the space-time-continuum. Because the street images are overlaid by the narrative of the pan-European commando exercise “Able Archer 83”, with which NATO simulated a nuclear war in November 1983. An action that not only prompted the Soviet Union to station real warheads in East Germany – the Finnish music scene, too, processed the smouldering fear in hauntingly pathetic contributions to the Eurovision Song Contest. Singer Kojo, for example, warned against closing one’s eyes – and was promptly punished with zero points. “Equal Dust” is a journey back in time to the Cold War and anticipated end of the world, but no less a document of expressive hairdos and a hurtful song competition.

The film follows Vilma on her last weekend in her hometown of Tornio, a small place in Lapland. She celebrates her graduation, has a great time with her family and friends in the lightheartedness of summer and says goodbye to her old life. Very soon she will be far away. Her new home is the big city of Helsinki, a ten-hour drive from Tornio.

Only light lifts the outlines of the world from darkness. In cyanotype, light-sensitive material is used to make white drawings materialize on a blue background. Tata Managadze challenges the light-sensitivity of our mind. She uses reflections and mirrors to expose the sensitive, gossamer-thin material of association in ways that make ephemeral memories and emotions visible. The poem at the beginning tells us how soothing and at the same time brutal her protagonist – light – can be. Like children in a playground, we are seduced by and forever searching for the dance of lights. Flower patterns on the dishes in the sink begin to spin when our eyelids grow heavy and sleep is approaching. Everything moves. In the transitory state between waking and dreaming, a different kind of life stirs in the prefabricated building estate: The stars of the restaurant leap from the sign and scratch traces into the wall. Or are these scars that must still heal? Perhaps scars from the Soviet era?
Again and again, well-known fragments are re-assembled. This non-narrative animated documentary takes us on a spiral of remembrance to an untraceable origin, building a bridge to our childhood ability to find magic in the most mundane things.

Young people roaming through thickets, bathing under birches in clear lake water, dewdrops glistening in the sunlight, animals scurrying, flying and crawling through the undergrowth. What at first looks like a modern fairy tale film soon lands rather rudely in today’s reality. Finland, the most densely forested European country with its boreal vegetation acts, together with Sweden, as the green lungs of the continent. There is a scientific consensus that preserving forests is one of the most effective measures to counteract climate change and halt the massive extinction of species. Despite this immensely important task, around ninety percent of Finland’s forests are currently threatened by deforestation, partly for the paper industry.
Her love of trees and her equally great anger at their destruction suddenly puts 22-year-old Ida at the forefront of a new environmental movement. Together with many like-minded people she takes on the giants of the Finnish forest industry. At the same time, she realises that her family, too, share the deeply rooted conviction that the forest is “cropland” meant to ensure Finland’s prosperity. One thing is certain: The committed young activists must fight a tough battle against economic interests, the political system and the prejudices of generations.

The archived testimonies of “Breaking the Silence”, an association of military veterans, are to be turned into a compilation of “service incidents” in the Israeli-occupied territories. But Avi Mograbi confesses: “My films tend to get complicated, even when my intention is to make a very simple film.” His reaction to a complex doom is artistically and intellectually commensurate: complex. Once again he uses a built-in commentary function in which he himself, white-bearded, explains the tricky situation to his audience: not as a special “Israel-Palestine” case, but as the bitter standard application of the globally familiar aporetic model of “military occupation”.

The multicoloured dotted record is on the turntable and spins, the handheld stroboscope emits its flashes of light. The mesmerising rain of confetti begins to the beat of the psychedelic organ krautrock celebrated by the Finnish Shogun Kunitoki quartet. A manual for home use that demonstrates how the picture disc, when used correctly, can sweep us off our feet acoustically and optically.

A young taxidermist is fascinated by crows, paying considerate attention to their dead bodies. Her work on the birds is simultaneously a careful study of anatomical connections and a kind of service toward the resurrection of this mythical creature from the realm between life and death. Through detailed, pulsating black-and-white images and a sparingly intense soundtrack, a charged atmosphere unfolds between craftsmanship, imagination and poetry.

Imagine the last day of your life has dawned. What will stand up to review? What brings contentment? What brings regrets? “Vika!” is a film about the value of life and self-discovery, inspiring us to reflect on one’s chosen path and its forks and to stay true to oneself.

Vika, the 84-year-old main protagonist, a mother and grandmother several times over, looks back on a difficult childhood and many years of working in a “proper” job. When she retired, she seized the opportunity to reinvent herself. She became a DJ and star of the Warsaw nightclubs, who regularly drives her young audience wild. Super cool? Inappropriate for an elderly lady? Agnieszka Zwiefka’s portrait deconstructs the borders between the “acceptable” and “unacceptable” roles of a woman who refuses to acknowledge her age. Vika wants to live in the moment, with no ties to the past. Zwiefka combines elements of music and narrative documentary films and creates an enchanting, immediately accessible and utopian world. Dancing to Vika’s rhythms means freeing yourself from the limitations dictated by society, age and sometimes even one’s own children.